


Breakfast in the Sun

by littlemisscurious



Series: Tom, Louise and Maggie [17]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revisiting Tom, Lou, and their daughter Maggie who you have already met in "My darling girl..." and "I love you, Dad!"...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My darling girl...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/754617) by [littlemisscurious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious). 
  * Inspired by [I love you, Dad!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/752201) by [littlemisscurious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious). 



> Disclaimer: I do not own Tom Hiddleston, neither have I met him before or know what he is really like. The band ‘The Chase’, its members, music, history etc. as well as the character of Maggie derive entirely from my imagination and any resemblance to living persons is purely incidental. Any kind of feedback, questions or criticism are highly appreciated and welcome.

**Breakfast in the Sun**

I smile as I hear tiny little feet padding across the wooden patio just outside the back of our house.

It is still early in the morning and the sun has just started to rise but, as I could not sleep any longer, I had decided to make use of the already lovely weather and enjoy my first cup of coffee outside in the garden.

Without saying a word but with sleepy eyes, tousled hair, and her favourite cuddly toy tightly stuffed under her arm instead, my 5 year old daughter Maggie starts climbing onto my lap. Putting my cup of coffee onto the table beside me, I quickly help her up and pull her closely to my chest, pressing a kiss onto her head.

She is an early bird, always has been and so am I. Her mother, on the other hand, loves to have a lie-in which is probably due to her being used to staying up late for her concerts and trying to get rid of the adrenaline until the wee hours of the morning, when she finally drops dead in the bed only to sleep until noon.

With a loving smile on my lips, I look down at my daughter who has closed her eyes again even though I know she is not sleeping any more. It has become our little tradition now. Every morning, when we’re both up, she’d come to me and we’d cuddle for a while. We never say a lot, we just sit there, enjoying the company and warmth of the other while listening to the wake-up songs of the birds around us.

I’m not even sure if Louise knows about our matutinal meetings. But then I guess she does. Motherhood has changed her. Not for the worse, god no. But ever since we had our darling Sophie, who had left us so early and so unexpected, she has become a little calmer, a little more cautious, and less effervescing. She is more mother now than famous musician.

On stage, she is still energetic as ever, despite now being in her early forties with a five year old time- and energy-consuming rascal at home. Not to speak of her time- and energy-consuming husband. Nevertheless, she is still deeply in love with her fans, her music, her band mates.  
But as soon as she’s home, she’s back into mummy-mode and all she ever cares about is the happiness, safety, and care of our little but lovely bundle of joy which is currently lying in my arms, her face buried deeply within my shirt.

I smile as I hear Maggie’s tummy rumbling.  
“Shall we get some breakfast, honey?,” I whisper quietly into her ear and tug a strand of her unruly hair behind her ear. She simply nods and I stand up carefully, still holding her tightly in my arms.

Sitting her down onto one of the bar stools next to our kitchen counter, I open the fridge and other cupboards to get all the ingredients that we will need to make my daughter’s favourite for breakfast.  
“Are we having pancakes, Daddy?,” she smiles at me, her whole face lighting up in the process.  
“If that’s alright with you,” I reply with a grin and press a kiss onto her forehead before I get out a bowl for the dough mixture.

Maggie simply giggles happily before she jumps off the stool and walks over to the door next to which her little green and gold apron hangs. It’s got “I’m the Princess of Mischief’ written on the front and her grandfather had given it to her for Christmas a few months back.  
Walking over to me, she turns around and patiently waits for me to fasten the bow on her back before she climbs onto the little footstool next to me.

“Okay, so first of all, I need flour,” I smile and she reaches over to hand me the glass jar with the white powder in it. Sifting the right amount into the bowl, I then pretend to think about what I might need next, causing Maggie to giggle again.  
“Don’t pretend you don’t know the recipe, Daddy,” she laughs and elbows me slightly in the hips.  
“Hey cheeky, watch it,” I grin. “Otherwise, I might eat all of the pancakes myself.” Sticking out my tongue to her, which is not very grown-up, yes I know, I make a small well into the middle of the flour.  
“Alright, eggs next,” I smile and she carefully hands me two before I crack them open and let them run into the well I’ve just made, all of this under the watchful eyes of my daughter. Whisking everything together, she helps me with the milk and water, and I let her add a bit of salt at the end before the actual cooking process is left to me.

“Why don’t you go and collect some berries, so we can add them to our pancakes,” I suggest and, with a plastic bowl in her hands, she quickly runs out into the garden, picking blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries from the bushes growing along the wooden fence.  
One eye on the pan, I watch her proudly. She has grown so quickly and seems to be more independent every day.  
I somehow miss the days where she still fit neatly into the crook of my elbow, here tiny fingers clasped around my thumb, her little world revolving around being fed, sleeping, crying, and getting her nappies changed.

“There we go,” she proclaims proudly and puts the bowl filled with berries down onto the kitchen counter before she drags her little stool in front of the sink to wash the dirt off the berries.  
“Thanks darling,” I smile at her as the first pancake slides onto a plate. Soon after, three plates are decorated with pancakes, berries, and a bit of vanilla sauce.

“Come on, Daddy, it’s time to wake up Mummy.” Taking my hand into her little one, Maggie pulls me out of the kitchen and up onto the first floor of our converted farmhouse. As quietly as possible, she opens the door to our bedroom and I smile as I see Louise sprawled out over the bed, sleeping soundly.  
With her auburn curls, which our daughter has luckily inherited, cascading over the white pillow underneath her head, she looks utterly beautiful and once again I am amazed at how lucky I am.

Slowly, Maggie climbs onto the bed from my side and kneels in front of her mother. She looks at me and beckons me to come closer as well and I oblige ever so gladly. Quietly sitting down next to her, we watch Lou sleep for a moment, her chest heaving with every breath she takes, her face relaxed and totally at ease.

“You have to wake her up like Sleeping Beauty was woken up,” Maggie whispers a little too loudly and I chuckle lightly.  
“Do you think that might work?,” I whisper back and she nods eagerly.  
Bending over, I press my lips softly on those of my wife and I can tell by her slight response that she is already awake. I sit back up, however, and look at my daughter, sadly.  
“Doesn’t work,” I sigh. “You give it a try. Maybe the kiss of her beloved princess will wake her up,” I wink and Maggie looks at me attentively with her big, blue eyes.  
She licks her lips before she presses a probably rather wet kiss onto her mother’s mouth with a loud smack. Sitting back up, she looks at me a little disappointed. I simply shrug my shoulders, hardly able to conceal my grin, before Lou pulls her on top of her and tickles her playfully, causing Maggie to shriek and laugh with joy.

“Oh Mummy, you tricked me,” our little one still laughs a little later, lying in our midst and looking at her mother with flushed cheeks.  
“Sorry my dear, it was just too tempting,” Lou grins and pulls our daughter gently into an embrace. “Mhmm, you smell lovely. Have you been making pancakes with Daddy again,?” she mumbles against Maggie’s hair and looks at me with her shining, hazel eyes.  
“Yes we have, they are already on the plate. And I’ve picked berries. And we’ve made vanilla sauce,” she grins proudly and sits back up before she starts to climb over me to get out of the bed, causing me to groan slightly.

“So I should probably get up then, right?,” Lou grins and sits up herself.  
“Yes you should. Daddy and I have been up for aaaaaages,” she laughs and leaves the bedroom, her naked feet padding down the wooden stairs shortly after.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I whisper, finally and pull her gently into my arms to give her a proper good morning kiss, which she responds to immediately.  
“Good morning, my lovely husband,” she replies just as quietly and cuddles up to me, her slender frame fitting ever so perfectly against mine.  
Smiling, I bite my lip and trace gently along her spine down to her hip where I let my hand rest for the moment.  
I can feel her breath on my face, a few strands of her hair are tickling my arm, and her skin is hot and soft under my touch. I wish we could stay like this forever. With her in my arms and our daughter in our lives, everything seems so perfect, so peaceful and I sincerely hope it will never ever change.

Pressing another gentle kiss onto my lips, she slowly detangles herself from my embrace and sits up.  
“Time for breakfast, Tom,” she smiles and crawls of the bed. I follow suit and intertwine my hand with hers before we slowly walk down the stairs together.

Maggie stands eagerly next to the patio door, hopping from one foot to the next.  
“Can we eat outside, please?,” she asks and looks at us with her best puppy dog face.  
“She’s got that from you. I told you, I’d be screwed if our children inherit that from you,” Lou mumbles into my ear with a grin, before she nods at Maggie in approval, causing her to squeal in delight. I simply smile at my wife innocently, before we settle down at the garden table a little later, pancakes in front of us and the sun shining brightly from the cloudless blue sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit my tumblr page http://w-is-for-writing.tumblr.com to find out more about my stories, my characters, and everything else you might be interested in :)


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